


Grounding

by icandrawamoth



Series: Love's Oldest Enemy 'verse [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: Character Turned Into a Ghost, Coping Mechanisms, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Senses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24418477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: In all the time Tycho has watched Wedge since his death, he's never seem him attempt to pull himself out of the whirlpool of his emotions like this.
Relationships: Wedge Antilles/Tycho Celchu
Series: Love's Oldest Enemy 'verse [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1109238
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Grounding

**Author's Note:**

> Another non-canon entry in the LOE verse. Think of these ghosts fics as sort of au-of-an-au.

For weeks, Tycho has hoped to see someothing on Wedge's face other than all-consuming grief, but this isn't much better. Today he's agitated, pacing around his quarters carding his hands restlessly through his hair before shoving them in his pockets, then pulling them back out again, or picking one thing up before putting it down, then repeating the process, nothing able to keep his attention.

Wedge's number one coping skill - healthy or not - has always been to bury himself in work. Now, demoted from commander of the Rogues to another rank and file pilot, he has nowhere near as much of that. He keeps volunteering to help Hobbie and Wes with whatever they might need, but they turn him down. Before, he would have spent all his free time locked in a simulator, but after the night they found him having cried himself to sleep inside of one, they'd limited his hours, and he's unable to get any more in today.

Wedge huffs and drops onto the end of the bed, pressing his face into his hands. His shoulders shake, though Tycho is having trouble telling if it's from anxiety or sobs. Neither would be a surprise.

Tycho takes a step closer, his ghostly feet silent on the short carpet. He wishes he could offer comfort. Hold Wedge's hand, kiss him gently, just _talk_ to him. But Tycho is dead. That's why Wedge is hurting, and Tycho can never make it better.

Wedge raises his head again, abruptly, eyes dry but slightly wild as he casts them about the room. They slide right over Tycho, of course; Wedge can't see him.

"Okay," Wedge says aloud, voice shaky. He swallows hard. "Five things I can see."

Tycho is surprised by the words. The start of a grounding exercise he'd been taught to help him cope after returning from Lusankya and had passed on to Wedge. They'd used it together a few times, and it had always helped both of them. He's never known Wedge to employ it when he was alone.

"Good thinking, love," Tycho murmurs, knowing Wedge won't hear the words. He sits behind him on the bed, the object not moving with his incorporeal weight.

Wedge's head turns slowly, his breathing still ragged as he looks around the room. "My console. My desk. My datapad on top of it. The closet door is partway open. My jacket hanging on the back of the door."

"Good." Pride gently warms Tycho's chest. In all the time he's watched Wedge since his death, he's never seem him attempt to pull himself out of the whirlpool of his emotions like this. It feels like such a good sign. "Do you remember what comes next?"

Wedge lets out another heavy breath. "Four things I can hear." He closes his eyes, breathing steadying as he concentrates. "The air exchange is running. My console is humming." His face creases a little as he searches for more answers.

Tycho slides forward on the bed, his arms going around his love. He wishes Wedge could feel the comfort he wants to offer, but even so, he just has to hold him. "You're doing so well," Tycho murmurs in his ear. "Listen. Concentrate."

"Voices in the hall," Wedge says. "And footsteps." He opens his eyes. They're still dry, not as wide and unfocused as they were.

"Halfway finished," Tycho encourages.

"Three things I can touch." One hand drops from Wedge's lap to the dull red military-issue blanket beneath him. "My blanket. Soft." He flips a corner and runs his hand across the gray sheet beneath. "The sheet. It's smoother." The shaking in his shoulders is all but gone now, his heart beating calmly under Tycho's palm. He leans forward, one hand reaching down the side of the bed, and Tycho goes with him, unwilling to break the illusion of their togetherness. "The bed frame. The metal is cool." He sits upright again.

Tycho nods, resting his chin on Wedge's shoulder as he holds him close. "Two more to go. You can do this."

"Two things I can smell." Wedge inhales steadily, eyes closing again as he tries to latch onto a pair of scents in his room. His nose wrinkles. "I can smell myself. I need to shower."

Tycho's lips quirk just a tiny bit. "You do, love. You need to take care of yourself. But look what you're doing now. You can."

Wedge inhales again. "Something else I can smell..."

He stands abruptly, passing right through Tycho's arms, and for a moment Tycho feels bereft. He watches as Wedge crosses the room to his desk and opens a drawer. He takes out a silver-wrapped ration bar and unwraps it with a crinkling sound. He holds the bar up to his nose and smells. "Chocolate and cinnamon." He takes a bite and chews slowly. "And it's the one thing I can taste too."

And it has the benefit of making him eat something. Tycho smiles gently at him from the bed. He observes gladly as Wedge leans against the desk and slowly eats the entire bar.

"You did so well," Tycho says softly, wishing more than anything Wedge could hear the words. He knows how much they would mean. "It's so good to see you taking care of yourself, love. I'm so proud of you."

Wedge finishes the bar and drops the wrapper into the trash. He gazes across the room again, almost seeming to look at Tycho, though of course he isn't.

"And now that shower, I think," Wedge says, then makes a face at himself for continuing to talk out loud.

Tycho smiles again, tender and hopeful, satisfied that for at least this moment, Wedge is okay.


End file.
